Night Afflictions
by Briteflame14
Summary: "Bruce had gotten a little too frustrated, and Dick, having the raging need to constantly prove himself, had stormed off to show his old man that he was strong enough to take the shadows on. The tricky part, however: it wasn't that Bruce didn't trust him, he simply didn't trust the shadows."


_**Title: Night Afflictions**_

 _ **Rating: K+**_

 _ **Characters: Bruce Wayne/Batman, Dick Grayson/Nightwing, and minor Damian Wayne/Robin, Alfred Pennyworth**_

 _ **Summary: Bruce had gotten a little too frustrated, and Dick, having the raging need to constantly prove himself, had stormed off to show his old man that he was strong enough to take the shadows on. The tricky part, however: it wasn't that Bruce didn't trust him, he simply didn't trust the shadows.**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

i.i.i

He glided over rooftops, struggling to push faster. Heavy breath and roaring blood was the only thing the Knight could hear as he rushed over Blüdhaven to find his son.

The last time the two had actually spoken, it hadn't ended well. Bruce had gotten a little too frustrated, and Dick, having the raging need to constantly prove himself, had stormed off to show his old man that he was strong enough to take the shadows on. The tricky part, however: it wasn't that Bruce didn't trust him, he simply didn't trust the shadows. Dick was skilled, no doubt about it, but in the last few weeks the Nightwing had been gone, things had changed violently in his unguarded city.

Dick simply hadn't seen it yet.

Alfred had contacted Bruce frantically, stumbling over his own words. Grayson's communicator had disconnected, but not before the butler had heard the sounds of the young man's obvious trouble.

Bruce couldn't help but blame himself. It wasn't Alfred that encouraged him to storm off, or Dick's need to prove himself; it was Bruce who hadn't explained himself properly, and _God_ did he regret it.

At last, the Dark Knight found himself overlooking a large clearing in Blüdhaven's Chinatown. There were obvious signs of a massive fight, and a number of men lay bleeding, broken, and unconscious on the floor. Unfortunately, Bruce singled out the blue and black suit without difficulty amongst the crooks. He had to say, Dick was strong; if he was going down, he sure as hell made sure he took as many of them with him.

Batman glided to the floor, landing noiselessly beside his injured son. Nightwing rested on his back, his face marred by bleeding cuts and dark bruises.

"Nightwing." He all but whispered, moving to cradle the younger man in his arms. He seemed so fragile and Bruce found himself holding the back of his head, his other arm circling his body to hold up his back. "Can you hear me?"

Thankfully, Dick's chest rose and fell, though his breathing was far from even. It was ragged and shallow, like he was struggling to suck in the little bits of air that was so readily abundant.

Bruce watched as Nightwing's mouth twitched, trying to form words. Blood leaked from his split lips, leaving a red trail down to his chin. His mask moved ever so slightly, trying his hardest to focus on the man hovering above him.

"I'm sorry, Bruce." Dick breathed hoarsely, so soft that if Bruce hadn't been searching, he wouldn't have heard it.

"Don't speak." Batman ordered softly, watching his child struggle. "Stay awake. It's going to be okay." With that, he hoisted the injured body into his arms, rushing back to the waiting Batmobile. He settled him in to the seat as comfortably as he could manage, buckling him in, and flipped into the driver's seat.

"Alfred." Bruce turned on his com systems once he was speeding on the roads. "Prep the Batcave for extensive medical treatment, we're coming in."

"Oh dear." Alfred's voice came back weary. "Am I to assume the worst?"

Bruce cast a glance to the unconscious hero, desperation starting up. "No. He's hurt too badly to say...I'm not sure how much longer he can hold on."

i.i.i

He was warm to the touch, a better sign compared to the previous night. Now bandaged and tucked away soundly in his own bed, Dick remained unconscious, Bruce sitting silently at his side. How could he have let this happen? He knew the shadows were worsening, why didn't he stop him?

A figure in the doorway made Bruce look up, though he regretted it. His heart only continued to shatter as he watched Damian stare into the room with terrified eyes; Dick had made a special place in the twelve-year-old's heart, though Damian refused to acknowledge it. Being one of the only people the boy cared deeply for, especially as a major brotherly-figure, would he die before Damian could openly tell him how he felt?

Bruce waved for him to enter. "C'mere." He breathed, reading the child easily.

Without being told twice, Damian stepped inside, stopping at his father's side. He would never allow himself to get close enough for Bruce to make a full affectionate move on him, though he leaned into the warmth of his larger hand when it was placed on his cheek.

"What happened to him, father?" Damian asked, watching Dick with sad eyes.

Bruce sighed, looking down. "I messed up, Damian. Big time."

The boy was silent, taking another step closer. "You didn't do this to him."

"I did." Bruce whispered, watching Dick's chest rise and fall. "I forced him away again."

"I spoke with Alfred." Damian rarely called the butler by his first name, signaling to Bruce that he was truly disturbed. "He told me everything. Dick didn't know, he moved on emotion. The men who hurt him are the ones to blame, not you."

"I wish I believed you. I knew what it was like, I could have warned him."

"No, father." The Boy Wonder shook his head, casting his gaze down. "You didn't start the gang. Under any different circumstances, Grayson could have taken the fight, maybe even win it. But you didn't beat him up, you only did what you normally would have done."

"I'm so sorry to intrude, sir," Alfred walked into the room, stopping just at the door. "But I have prepared food, and Lord knows you both need to eat. Master Damian needs to clean up and rest, as do you, Master Bruce. You haven't slept a wink."

For the first time, Bruce noticed Damian bore his suit, the mask still fastened tight. He remembered the mission he and Red Robin had gone on to France earlier, though he hadn't recalled seeing the latter.

"Where's Tim?" Bruce asked, looking down at Damian.

"Went straight to sleep. Couldn't hear anything the minute he walked through the front doors." Damian grabbed Bruce's arm, tugging him up. "But you need to go and clean up."

Alfred nodded. "Agreed, sire. If Master Dick is to wake up to a caring face, you need to sleep."

"I can't leave him-" Bruce started, though he was already standing.

"It's part of the job description, father." Damian said softly, looking up at him. "He knew what he was getting himself into when he started."

Bruce paused, looking between the two boys. He let a hand rest on Damian's head and let the other brush Dick's damp hair. Then, he allowed his son to lead him out the door.

"Thank you, Damian."

"He's going to be alright." Alfred stated, leading them out of the room. "I can see it. Master Dick is a fighter."


End file.
